lovebunnie-shaped holes in existence.

three on the backseat as we drive to the festival
it’s stopped raining, we think we see foxes
i breathe a canvas on the window to write your name on the landscape
the sky is a grey flint from causse to causse with birds frozen in
magic trees share the dashboard with a road description
grapelli and reinhardt lock horns on the radio
i draw a black skull on my jeans, not thinking, through to the skin
the headlamps come on at ten

…i miss you bad.

swooning in this age of capitalism.

rarely have i seen such beautiful t-shirts. i want to spend ALL MY MONEY AT ONCE! and, so will you.

the stories we tell.

update from france. earlier this week, i found myself on the 70something neighbors’ terrace, boozing with the other neighbor, who will apparently leave his wife for a young slut come september 1st, his wife (she was drugged on all sorts of substances, chainsmoking and as nervous as nervous wrecks get), and the 70something neighbors themselves. this was by far the weirdest situation in a long time: nobody’s supposed to know he’s going to leave her for that young slut, and even if we were supposed to know, he wouldn’t be supposed to know that we know that she knows he’s going to do it. ah, alcohol heals all wounds!

ingmar bergman might be dead, but his spirit lives on in the south of france.

your hero has also been drinking the night away with a couple of english hippies and four gay spaniards (and a bobtail!) while dancing close and slow to george michael songs. this was, if anything, terribly interesting.

almodovar might be alive, but he could as well be dead, cos your hero was hungover the next day.

europe, i’m still partial to you.

case study: boy drinks 3 glasses of vile punch, wants to walk home (i.e. escape from the overwhelming frenchness around him), sees his house on the other side of the valley but is too drunk to make his way through the overgrowth on the once frequently used paths across the valley. boy is forced to hitch a ride with a couple of hippie boozers who transport kayaks for a living.

boy gets out of their grimy volkswagen van, and sees the sun set on the valley. magnifique.
europe, you have your benefits.

europe, i hate you, and you’re bringing me down.

how could i ever have been stupid enough to come back? that is the question, dear reader. i am apparently good at making monumentally stupid decisions.

la musique automatique.

a few weeks ago i was nagging about the sorry state of contemporary music. it took me exactly two weeks to realise i was horribly wrong! a short description of new releases turning sc’s tender buttons:

1. m.i.a.  - kala : 2005s onetime hipster darling returns with rather nice sophomore album. don’t expect anything like ‘galang’ or ’sunshowers’; the content matter is darker here, and the music more aggressive. highlights: ‘boyz’ with its ecstatic intro, ‘$20′ with its new order sample and scorching atmosphere, and ‘xr2′, a track that already surfaced ages ago, but has been pleasantly and radically reworked into a banger! yay. ‘paper planes’ is a really nice poppy song, for those who want something more like arular.
2. tellier, oizo and sebastian - steak ost : modern electronic heroes make exciting soundtrack for insignificant movie. at its best, it sounds like you’re cruising through the banlieues of paris in a citroen cx in 1988. the squelchy synths and faux-hiphop beats make the whole thing nothing short of spectacularly entertaining. best noodling: ‘chivers as a female’, ‘plug it’ and ‘exploites’.
3. the go! team - proof of youth : this one is quite the nut to crack. at first it just sounded like a weird sonic hodgepodge of sorts, but then the genius of these 11 songs smacked me in the face. proof of youth sounds like beautiful 14 y.o.s getting it on with their murderous, ruby red laser eyes that burn you alive, while the cookie monster and big bird dance frantically with super models. (“to all the ladies YEEAHHH! ladies! YEAHHH! 1980s!”) songs for rocking the house: ‘grip like a vice’, ‘flashlight fight’, ‘titanic vandalism’, ‘the wrath of marcie’ and ‘patricia’s moving picture’.
4. the new pornographers – challengers : i haven’t listened to this enough yet, but my first impressions are: OOOH AAAH THEY ARE GODS. this album is slower than their first three masterworks, but the songs are substantially better. the total catchiness of twin cinema is gone, but it has been replaced with… thoughtfulness. and i know an album’s worth of slow new pornographers’ songs sounds rather vapid, but it’s not.

2007, i love you again. now i’m going to runnnn from the unreleased music police.